


Memory of a Dream

by sjofn



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-15
Updated: 2011-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjofn/pseuds/sjofn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The sketch came first, and inspired the fic.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Memory of a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> The sketch came first, and inspired the fic.

_  
**Memory Of A Dream**   
_

  


 

 _Words had never been adequate to describe the energy that flowed through him when he was in battle. His King had become a legend in his own time; his men had never been defeated. He fought at his King’s back, and any man that approached them on the battlefield fell under sword or axe._

 _His entire purpose in life was to protect and serve his King, there was no greater loyalty, no other cause. Once he had professed that even the gods meant less to him, and though he had been rebuked for having said so, he hadn’t recanted._

 _And now, here on this field, they were going to fall. The enemy out numbered them impossibly. All around their brothers lay dying or already dead. Hundreds of enemy soldiers were swarming towards them from all directions._

 _The few of their band that were still standing turned their backs to each other forming a circle, and met the onslaught with an earsplitting cry, his King was as usual the loudest among them, unleashing an unearthly bellow. He took one last look at his lord, who was fearless in the face of death, before turning to dispatch one of the first of the enemy to reach them._

 _The fight was short, the odds were not in their favor. They were outnumbered by more than 20 to 1._

 _He’d lost focus as he’d watched his lord fall, the enemy had come between them, and he had been powerless to stop the blow that had ended the King’s life. He felt the sword that was driven through his back, and looked down to see the blade protrude momentarily from his chest, before it was withdrawn._

 _He’d been focused on the intense green eyes of his King, open in death as the enemy soldiers held his severed head up and shouted in celebration of their victory. His sword slipped from his hand as he fell onto the blood soaked earth. He felt himself slipping into death, he didn’t try to fight it, what reason could he have for continuing to live?_

Charles sat up gasping for air, his heart pounding out of his chest, his hair matted to his forehead with sweat. Dreaming of dying was never what you could call settling, but it happened more often than he would like. After the things he had seen and done it was to be expected. But that had been a truly horrific nightmare. Seeing Nathan’s severed head in the hands of the enemy, watching powerlessly as his entire reason for living died. Knowing that his life had become meaningless even as he gave it up.

The light clicked on and Nathan rolled over and blinked wearily at him for a few seconds before asking, “You okay?” through a yawn.

“Sorry I woke you.” Charles answered, not really answering at all.

“You woke me before you woke yourself, thrashing around and mumbling in your sleep.” Nathan said sleepily. The singer rolled onto his back stretching out an arm in wordless invitation.

The image of Nathan’s dead eyes from the dream flashed through Charles’ mind, the thought was like a physical pain in his chest. He rolled into Nathan’s waiting arms.

It had just been a dream. An extremely unsettling dream. He could clearly see where it had come from. His entire life revolved around the man, he was in a near constant state of anxiety trying to protect their interests. He had reread Beowulf a few weeks ago, and had read it countless times before.

Trying to rationalize it away didn’t really help.

What had been disturbing was how real the nightmare had seemed. More like a memory than a dream. He usually only remembered fragments of his dreams upon waking; he had every detail of this. The scenery, the sounds and smells of the battle.

His King.

[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/sjofn0nott/pic/0002051f/)

　

  
  



End file.
